


Love Me Tinder (Timeline 3)

by Melanie_b



Series: A Series of Happy Endings [2]
Category: Kabby fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dorks, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Online Dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b
Summary: In The Times That Weren’t Ours five of the six timelines ended with Kane and Abby not getting together for various reasons. However, I love all of the timelines so I decided to write the happy endings to those timelines and post them separately. This is the happy ending to Timeline 3, which you can read about in chapters 3 & 9 of The Times That Weren’t Ours.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Callie Cartwig & Abby Griffin
Series: A Series of Happy Endings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679143
Comments: 46
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Times That Weren’t Ours (And One Time That Was)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182513) by [Melanie_b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b). 



She knew she was being a coward. She knew that there was nothing wrong with using a dating app to meet someone, but since she’d let herself be persuaded to set up a profile during a drunken evening with Callie, she hadn’t had the courage to open the app to see if there was anybody of interest on it, and if she understood correctly how it worked, she wouldn’t be notified that someone had swiped her unless she had swiped them first. And for some reason, the thought terrified her. 

God knows she hadn’t had any luck meeting anyone in real life, though. She shuddered as she remembered her last date, who had spent the whole time staring either at his watch or at her breasts, or the one before that, who had seemed charming until he had opened his mouth and only closed it again three hours later when he’d told her his whole life story.

No, her dating history was a not-so-long, sad list of disappointments, so why was she so afraid of using a dating app? It couldn’t get any worse, that much was for sure. Maybe it was the thought of putting herself out there, of admitting to the world that she, Dr Abby Griffin, chief of surgery, actually would like someone to take care of her from time to time. 

Now, as she curled up on her sofa with a mug of hot chocolate, the little red icon taunted her from the home screen of her phone. She supposed she could just have a quick look. She didn’t have to swipe anyone today, she could just browse a little, see who was there. And if she really found no one of interest, she could just delete her profile. No one would ever have to know she’d even been on the app. 

Right. That’s what she would do. 

She opened the app and entered her phone number and password. That was weird though. Shouldn’t she already be logged in? Oh. Username unknown. What? 

She tried again. Same result. Username unknown. Please sign up to use Tinder. What the heck was going on? Had she dreamed the evening with Callie? She closed the app and dialled Callie’s number. 

“Hey darling. What’s up?”

“I think I’m going crazy. Did I, or did I not set up a Tinder account on Friday evening?” 

“You did. Why?”

“The damn app is telling me to sign up. Username unknown.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Hang on, let me have a look. We swiped each other, so that you could see how it worked. Don’t go away.” There was a silence on the end of the line, then Callie’s voice came down the phone again. “You’re not there. Your profile’s gone.”

“Great. Even Tinder doesn’t want me,” muttered Abby grumpily, and Callie laughed. 

“Don’t be silly. You must have deleted your account by accident.”

Ugh. That did sound like the sort of thing she’d do. 

“Okay, well I guess that’s fate,” she said philosophically. “It clearly wasn’t meant to be.”

“Abbyyyyyyyy,” moaned Callie. “It doesn’t mean anything except that you’re useless with technology. Do you want me to help you do it again?”

“No, no. I can manage, I think. I’ll call you if I have problems.” She hung up, and opened Tinder again, chewing on her lip as she navigated the app and set up her profile again. 

Wow. It seemed to her like a lot of these men were just looking for sex, although some of them seemed very sweet but not her type. Too nerdy, or too sporty, or too wild. Ugh, what exactly was her type? Her only vaguely successful relationship had been her marriage to Jake, if you didn’t count the divorce, but she didn’t really feel that her type was blond, blue-eyed engineers. 

She carried on reading each profile and swiping left as Callie had shown her how to do if she wasn’t interested. She was beginning to lose hope when _oh_. Wait a minute. He was hot. She stared at the photo. He had dark hair and eyes and a smile that was both gentle and sexy. A bit of stubble. Hmmm. Very cute. She read his profile. His name was Marcus, and he was a cop who wanted to make the world a better place, which made her heart melt a little. He liked cooking and sci-fi movies. “ _I’ll cook you dinner if you’ll watch sci-fi movies with me.”_ She _loved_ sci-fi movies, and she hated cooking, which was perfect. His profile was short and sweet though. She wanted to know more about him. 

_Just swipe right, Abby._

She ran her hand through her hair. Oh God. He was definitely attractive, and he had a genuinely sincere look in his dark brown eyes. Fuck it, she was going to do it. If he didn’t swipe back she’d delete her profile and forget about Tinder, but the more she stared at his photo, the more she wanted to get to know him. She had to try. 

She swiped right quickly, and then closed the app and got up to take her mug into the kitchen. She was shaking slightly and her heart was racing with adrenaline but she took a deep breath and busied herself with tidying the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. She wouldn’t check her phone till tomorrow morning, she thought. There was no point torturing herself by checking constantly. She just had to forget about it. 

She had a shower and got into bed, but her mind kept wandering to the soft smile on the Tinder app. It seemed that in some way that smile was just for her, which was impossible, she knew. He didn’t even know her, but his gaze seemed to touch something deep inside.

Okay, she was just going to check her phone _once_ before she went to sleep. Not for Tinder, though. Just in case, you know, there were any messages from Callie or Clarke. Clarke was away at college and often texted in the evenings. She climbed out of bed and padded into the living room, just in time to see her phone screen light up with a notification, and she snatched it up anxiously. 

_Tinder._ It was a Tinder notification. 

Her hands shook as she unlocked her phone and opened the app. Notifications. You have one match. Oh God. He’d matched with her. It had to be him, because she hadn’t swiped anyone else. Butterflies weren’t so much fluttering as crashing around inside her as she opened the notifications tab and clicked on the message. 

Marcus matched with you. 

She sank onto the sofa, a smile spreading over her face. She should message him. It would be weird to match with someone and not message them, but what should she say? She bit her lip, pondering the best kind of opening message to send, when her phone pinged, and she looked down to see a message waiting.

Wow. He was eager. 

She opened the message and a giggle escaped her. It simply said, “Hi.” He clearly wasn’t a man of many words. Well two could play at that game. 

She typed “Hi!” back and then pressed send. 

His next message surprised her. “I’m glad you came back.”

What did that mean? She was about to ask him when another message came through. 

“I saw your profile on Friday evening but then you deleted before I could swipe.”

Oh! She wasn’t sure what to say, so she decided the truth was always a good option. 

“I deleted my profile by accident. I’m not actually very good with technology tbh.”

“Oh! Oops. That sounds like something I would do.” 

Aw, he was useless with technology too? That was something else they had in common, at least. Her phone pinged again. 

“What does ‘tbh’ mean?”

She giggled. He really _was_ cute. “It means ’to be honest.’” 

“Oh ok. I’ve never understood emojis.”

This made her giggle even harder. “It’s not an emoji, it’s just an acronym. Emojis are like photos but they move.” She frowned. Was that right? Or were they gifs? She could never remember the difference, she’d have to ask Clarke.

“Oh! Right. I thought they were called memes.” Oh God, he really was as confused as she was. Her phone pinged again. “Um, I’m not really very good at writing messages. Maybe I could call you some time? When you’re not busy.”

She hugged her knees, a feeling of warmth flooding through her, and a smile spreading over her face. “I’m free right now.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finally connecting on Tonder (or whatever it was called) Marcus calls Abby.

On the other side of Manhattan, Marcus was torn between joy and panic. He was ecstatic that she wanted him to call her straight away but oh  _ God.  _ He hadn’t had time to even think about what he would say. What if he mumbled and stuttered and the conversation fell flatter than a pancake? He wondered if he’d made a mistake.  _ She’s way too sophisticated for you,  _ he thought glumly. She was probably used to guys with dazzling conversational skills, who knew how to woo a woman with insightful discourse and witty asides. Not bumbling fools like him who didn’t know the difference between an acronym and an emoji. 

He glanced down at his phone. Another message had come through. 

“If now’s not a good time for you, we can do it another time…”

_ No.  _ No no no, now was a great time. He didn’t want to risk her slipping away again. He quickly typed, “Now is perfect. Give me two minutes?”

“Sure. I’m right here.” She sent one of those little smiley faces with a kiss and his heart skipped. She’d sent him a  _ kiss.  _ He stood up and paced the room, running his hands through his hair, trying to gather his nerves. Okay. He could do this. He took a deep breath and picked up his phone, then hit the “call” button in the app. He put the phone to his ear, and, heart racing, waited for her to pick up. 

“Hi.” Her voice was deep and velvety in his ear, and ripples of goosebumps flew over his skin. 

“Hi,” he replied softly, and was surprised to hear a bubble of laughter in response. He frowned. “What?”

His question was met with more laughter, more than a giggle now. Her laugh was deep and throaty and infectious and he laughed too, although he had yet to understand what was so funny. 

“Oh, Marcus,” she gasped. “Oh, my God.”

“What is it?” He was completely confused now. Her laughter was the cutest thing he’d ever heard and he could listen to it all day but he was starting to feel self conscious at this point. 

“You video called me. And all I can see is your ear.”

“Oh!”  _ Fuck.  _ How could he be so dumb? He pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the screen, and his heart flipped when he saw her beautiful face, alight with mirth. She was wiping tears from her eyes and grinning at him and all he could do was grin back stupidly. “I’m sorry. I’m really useless with technology.”

“You’re adorable. That just made my day.”

“Thank you,” he said dryly, but his grin was bigger than ever. She thought he was  _ adorable.  _ They stared at each other goofily for a few seconds, neither of them sure how to continue after the unexpected beginning to their conversation. His mind began to race.  _ Say something,  _ he thought desperately. “So, uh. You’re a doctor?” he finally blurted out, at exactly the same time as she said “So you’re a police officer?”

They laughed again, and her nose wrinkled in the most perfect way possible. “Sorry,” she said. “You go first.” 

He told her shyly about his job, and the voluntary work he did with kids at the rehab centre. He didn’t want to bore her but she listened intently and kept asking questions and he found himself telling her more and more. She was so incredibly empathetic and her beautiful eyes were full of admiration and before he knew it he’d been talking about himself for forty minutes. 

“Oh, hey,” he said, stopping suddenly. “I’m talking too much. It’s your turn now.”

“It’s okay,” she said warmly. “I like listening to you. You have a lovely voice.”

He felt himself blushing. “I do?”

“Yes. It’s kind of deep and sexy.”

“Well, so do you,” he said, not sure how else to accept the compliment than to deflect it back at her, and anyway it was true. Her voice was  _ gorgeous.  _ “And I’d like to hear about you now, if that’s okay.”

“Okay.” 

She told him about her job and her daughter, Clarke, who was studying history of art at Yale and only came home a couple of weekends a term. He could sense that she missed her and his heart ached a little for her. She also did voluntary work, at a walk-in consultation centre for teenagers, and it turned out they had a couple of acquaintances in common. He was stunned at this: that people he knew and talked to regularly actually knew of the existence of this amazing woman and weren’t shouting from the rooftops about her? He didn’t get it. He felt a sudden flash of irrational resentment at everyone who knew her and worked with her and yet just considered her another person, a colleague, a doctor. 

The conversation moved on to other subjects and they soon discovered they had more in common than they thought, but with just the right amount of differences to keep it interesting. Apart from sci-fi shows and movies she also loved comedy shows whereas he was more of a current affairs person, and while they both loved early 21st century music his tastes were slightly more classical, stuff like Fall Out Boy and Imagine Dragons, whilst hers were a little more radical, like Billy Eilish and Fleurie. She did admit to loving “Next to me,” by Imagine Dragons, though, which made him happy since it was one of his faves too. 

“I can’t wait till I am next to you,” he said softly, emboldened to the point of flirting by her clear and obvious interest in him. He was buzzing after the hours spent on the phone with her, and adrenaline and dopamine were flooding his veins. They’d been talking for hours at this point, and he was trying to ignore the early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds. He held his breath slightly, wondering if he’d been too direct, or too cheesy, and was delighted to see her eyes light up at his words.

“Well, you know. It’s five-thirty am. I was thinking of getting some breakfast at this point. Do you want to join me?”

“You’re going to have breakfast before you go to bed?” he chuckled.

“Why not? I’m starving. So are you coming over or not?”

He stared at her, and his pulse quickened. “Are you sure?” He could feel his blood pounding in his temples and also somewhere else which he was trying very hard not to think about.

“Of course I’m sure. Do you like pancakes?”

“Yes. Yes of course. I love them.” It was true, but to be honest he’d eat carboard if it meant getting to have breakfast with her.

“Ok. I’ll put the coffee on. See you in half an hour?”

“Okay. Great! See you then.” 

“Perfect!” The happiness on her face made his heart sing. “See you in a bit.” She blew him a kiss and ended the call, and he sat on the sofa staring at the phone in his hands for a couple of minutes, dazed at the turn of events. He was struggling to get his head around the fact that he’d talked to her  _ all night,  _ let alone the fact that he was now going to her house for breakfast. 

He came to his senses and jumped up. He needed to change out of his T-shirt and sweatpants he wore for lounging around at home. He put on a pair of jeans and a clean black T-shirt, then cleaned his teeth and brushed his hair and was just putting on some cologne when a thought occurred to him, and his heart sank. Shaking his head, he went back into the living room and picked up his phone to call her back.

She didn’t answer straightaway this time, and he figured she was probably elbow deep in pancake mix. The thought made him smile. She’d probably have it on her nose as well, and would be completely unaware of how adorable she looked. When at last she did answer, her eyes were creased in concern. 

“Hi!” she said, and he noted with amusement that she really did have a smudge of pancake mix on her nose. “What’s up?”

“Abby,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “You forgot to give me your address.” 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It wasn’t really her style at all, but she was feeling reckless. She’d never talked all night with  _ anyone  _ before, let alone a complete stranger she’d just met on Tinder. The connection she felt with Marcus was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and he was so handsome he took her breath away. Like Greek God level handsome, but a cute and dorky Greek God with twinkling eyes and an adorable smile. 

She was almost giddy with tiredness, to the point that she burnt half the bacon and had to chuck it in the bin and open the windows to let the smeech out. She wondered if that was actually a word or if her sleep deprived brain had just invented it. The pancakes came out well, though, and she had fresh strawberries, maple syrup and litres of coffee. She laid the table for two whilst the last of the bacon was sizzling gently, and she was just checking her appearance and wiping pancake mix off her nose when the doorbell rang. 

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she paused before the door, taking deep breaths to stop her hands shaking. She wiped her palms on her jeans and then opened the door, and there he was, right in front of her. 

Well, behind a huge bunch of flowers, which made her giggle.

“Oh! Marcus, they’re beautiful.” He handed them to her with a shy smile and she felt herself blushing. She stood on tip toes to kiss him on the cheek and was pleased to see that his nose turned as pink as hers felt. What a pair of dorks, she thought to herself happily. 

“I couldn’t come empty handed,” he explained, “but they’re only from the gas station I’m afraid. There’s not much open at this time of the morning.”

“They’re lovely,” she said, smelling them. “Thank you for coming.” He was even more gorgeous in the flesh, his smile accentuating the softness of his cheeks, and she was aware she was staring. 

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s - it’s lovely to see you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s nice to see you too.” She gave a little grimace at how ridiculously formal they sounded, after the hours they’d spent getting to know each other by phone. She grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Are we crazy, do you think?”

“Probably.” Their eyes met, and what she saw there took her breath away. She’d never understood what it meant when romance novels described a man’s expression as hungry, but that was exactly how he was looking at her now and she was pretty sure pancakes were the last thing on his mind. His eyes fell to her lips and her pulse quickened, and then his hand flew to her cheek and he drew her to him in a frantic, passionate kiss. 

“I’ve been dying to kiss you all night,” he breathed when they broke apart. 

“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, hitting herself in the face with the flowers, which made her giggle, and pulled him closer, their kisses getting more and more heated and messy. She felt herself being backed against the wall, only remembering too late about the small table with the vase on. She felt it against her thigh and froze, waiting for the crash which duly came. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She seized his face to kiss him again, his weight pressing her deliciously against the wall, and she could feel his arousal against her hip. She rubbed herself gently against him, the little moans he made deep in his throat igniting a fire in her groin. 

Speaking of fire… “Shit. The bacon.” Smoke was filling the air and she slipped out of his arms to run into the kitchen and switch off the stove. The bacon was as black as charcoal so she picked up the whole pan and put it in the sink, turning the cold water on. 

“Damn. Sorry, there’s no bacon for breakfast.” She turned apologetic eyes to him but he just wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck. 

“It’s okay.” He nuzzled her neck, his mouth on her skin making her dizzy with desire. 

“Oh God,” she gasped. “Bedroom. Now.”

“Are you sure?”

She took his hand and led him up the stairs and into the bedroom, where she pulled him onto the bed on his back and resumed kissing him again, her hands in his wonderfully soft hair. His hands moved under her t-shirt to roam over her back and undo her bra, which came unhooked on the first attempt. 

“Impressive,” she smiled into the kiss and in response he flipped them over so that she was on her back beneath him. 

“Pure luck,” he grinned back. He lifted her T-shirt over her head and slipped her bra off her arms. “God, you’re beautiful,” he growled. “So beautiful…” He brought his mouth to her breast and placed a chaste kiss on her skin.

“Marcus…” she moaned, and he didn’t need another invitation to attack her nipple with his tongue, making her gasp and writhe in pleasure. She fumbled at his belt and when that was undone she popped open the button and zipper of his jeans and he pushed them both down and off with his feet.

It was her turn to look at him hungrily now. He was lean but muscular, his skin smooth and golden with a light smattering of soft hair on his chest. She made quick work of discarding her own clothes and then he lowered himself onto her, naked and glorious and she wrapped her arms and legs around him and pulled him inside her. 

They stilled for an instant, both breathing heavily, and then he began to move, and they both lost their minds. The sex was hot and fast and frantic and whether it was the tiredness, or the anticipation from flirting all night, or just the fact that it had been months since either of them had got laid, they came together explosively within minutes and then he rolled off her and gathered her in his arms, panting and sweaty and somewhat dazed.

They were both asleep in seconds. 

……………..

  
  


When she woke up, the clock on the nightstand was showing two pm, and she was confused at first. She blinked sleepily, trying to remember why she was in bed in the middle of the afternoon, and then she felt a stirring behind her, and it all came flooding back. 

Oh  _ God. _

Had she really met a guy on Tinder and invited him around for breakfast and fucked his brains out instead? She closed her eyes. That wasn’t like her at all. She hadn’t even given him breakfast. Maybe he’d leave quickly. That would probably be for the best. Maybe she should pretend to be asleep and he might just leave without saying anything. 

She felt a warm hand on her arm. “Hey. Abby. Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, preparing to be blazè, thinking quickly of an excuse why he should leave. She could say she had to go to her mom’s, she thought, or maybe she had to cover for a colleague who’d fallen sick. Yes, that would do. 

She turned over to face him, and her resolve crumbled. 

He was looking at her with such awe on his face, such tenderness in his eyes, that the words stilled on her lips. The warm afternoon sun was casting a golden glow on his skin and his hair was adorably fluffy and tousled. His hand moved to brush her hair gently out of her face and stroke her cheek and in that moment, Abby fell in love.

“I’m fine,” she smiled, capturing his hand with hers and bringing it to her lips, and she saw a mixture of relief and happiness cross his features. “Are _ you?” _

“I, um. I feel a bit like I forced my way into your house and - you know. Forced myself onto you.”

“What?” Was he kidding? She’d practically dragged him into her bedroom and unfastened his belt and zipper. How could he think that? “You didn’t,” she reassured him. “I invited you here, I dragged you into my bedroom and undressed you.”

He smiled at the memory. “I, um. Don’t usually do things like this, you know.”

“You mean hook up with women on Tinder?”

His cheeks grew red at her words, and her heart melted a little bit more. “Yes. Exactly. It was the first time.”

“It was the first time for me too,” she said, and then she understood. He wasn’t only worried that she’d think it was just sex for him. He was worried it was just sex to  _ her.  _ That to her, he was just another Tinder hook up. 

Oh God, she wanted to marry him. 

She wriggled closed to him, fitting into his arms perfectly, and kissed him softly. 

“I like you so much,” he said shyly. “This is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She thought her heart would burst. “Me too.”

Then his mouth found hers again, and he slid on top of her and made love to her, slowly and deliciously, murmuring sweet words as he brought her to a deep and satisfying climax, and when he came a minute later her clutched her tightly to him while he moaned her name over and over into her hair. 

Hungry now only for food, they ventured down to the kitchen. The pancakes were cold so Abby put them in the microwave, and she realized with dismay that she didn’t have any more coffee, so she was going to have to heat up the coffee she’d made that morning. 

“It’s not much of a breakfast,” she said sadly. “Reheated coffee and pancakes. No bacon.” 

“It’s fine,” he said, catching her arm and turning her to him. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His words made her tummy flip, and she smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you.”

In the end they were so hungry that everything tasted great anyway. Neither of them could stop grinning as they chewed the slightly rubbery pancakes and sipped the not-so-fresh coffee, and then he helped her clean the kitchen, scrubbing the burnt black frying pan while she wiped down the table and put the plates in the dishwasher. When everything was clean, he took her in his arms. 

“I should go…” he said reluctantly, and her heart sank. 

“Okay.” She wished he didn’t have to go but they’d only just met, and they’d already spent the best part of a day together if you included the time spent talking on the phone. She should give him his space. Everybody knew that was the key to a healthy relationship, if that’s what this was. 

He retrieved his shoes from the bedroom and then they kissed for a long time by the front door. 

“I’ll call you,” he murmured as he gave her a final soft kiss. “I want to cook you dinner and then we can watch a movie.”

“Sci-fi?”

“Of course.” He nuzzled her nose and kissed her again. “I can’t wait.”

“Nor can I,” she sighed, and then he opened the door, and he was gone. 

Alone in her house, she flopped down onto the couch, feeling slightly breathless. Wow. Wow wow wow. Whoever would have imagined such a man existed, let alone that he would be single, live in New York and be interested in  _ her.  _ She should tell Callie, she thought. She’d be delighted. 

She picked up the phone, and was just about to call Callie when the screen lit up with an incoming call.  _ Marcus. _

She answered at once with a slight frown. He’d  _ just  _ left. “Marcus?!”

“Seven thirty at my place?”

“Sounds perfect,” she answered. “See you then.”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Abby got to his house at exactly seven thirty that evening, after phoning him back to ask for his address because of course he’d forgotten to give it to her. What a pair, he thought to himself, and it gave him a nice warm feeling inside. They really seemed to be similar in lots of ways; the phrase “made for each other” sprang to mind. He buzzed her up, his pulse already quickening at the thought of seeing her again. He wondered how he was going to go back to work on Monday and spend the whole day without seeing her. She was like a drug, and he was already well and truly hooked. 

It was obviously the same for her, too, because she was barely in the front door when she was in his arms and kissing him again, her arms wrapped around his neck and tangling in his hair, bringing him impossibly closer. Dear God, she was going to be the death of him. He ran his hands over her hips and pulled her flush against him. 

“Oh God, Marcus,” she sighed as he trailed his lips down her throat. “Let’s go to bed.”

“What about dinner?” he murmured against her skin. “It’s going to burn…”

“Hmmm. Okay,” she sighed reluctantly. “I guess we should control ourselves.” She pulled him to her for one last kiss, slow and sensual and so sexy it was all he could do not to push her up against the wall and take her there and then.

When they broke apart he was dazed, his head spinning from her kisses. “Okay. Right. Come in, sit down.” He was bumbling but he couldn’t help it. He led her over to the couch and sat her down. “Red or white?” 

“Red, please,” she smiled up at him, and he nearly lost himself in her eyes before he came to his senses. He hurried to the kitchen and came back with two glasses of Merlot and they clinked “cheers” and took a sip, eyes smiling at each other over the tops of their glasses. 

“I made stir fry chicken,” he said. “I hope that’s okay?” He usually ate it with chopsticks on the couch, watching a movie, and he wondered if she’d like to do that too or if she’d prefer to sit at the table properly. 

“It’s perfect,” she grinned. “We can eat here on the couch and watch a movie? Or do you not do things like that?”

Could she be any more perfect? “Sure, I do that all the time,” he said. “Here, you choose a movie.” He handed her the remote and left her flicking through the sci-fi section, and went to serve up the dinner. 

When he came back she was sitting cross-legged on the couch. She’d twisted her hair up into a messy bun, and had perched a pair of glasses on her nose, and she looked so adorable he had to stop in his tracks. Wine in one hand, remote in the other as she scanned the movie list, she seemed so completely at home, as much a part of his life as the potted plant on the table and the R2D2 model on the shelf. 

She took her plate from him. “Is this okay? I’ve never seen it.” It was a time travel movie, where the two main characters travelled back in time to stop the apocalypse. He’d already seen it but he was happy to watch whatever she wanted. 

“Sure. It’s a great movie.”

He dimmed the lights a little and they settled down to watch and eat. They were soon engrossed, and when they’d finished their meal he took their plates to the kitchen. He sat back down next to her and it was the most natural thing in the world to lift his arm so that she could snuggle into him. They watched the movie in silence, her head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist, until a little nuzzle led to a little kiss and before they knew where they were he was on top of her, kissing her greedily and she was wrapping her legs around him and tangling her fingers in his hair as she kissed him back, the movie completely forgotten.

“Oh God, Abby,” he groaned. Her hands and mouth were everywhere, like she couldn’t get enough of him. She was intoxicating, and he was no longer capable of coherent thoughts. 

“Marcus,” she sighed as he kissed her neck. “Please…”

Her breathy pleas turned him on immeasurably, and he wriggled down the couch to lift her dress and nuzzle at the warmth between her legs. She let out a soft moan of pleasure, and spurred on, he pulled her panties down over her hips and bent his head to taste her center, this time eliciting a small cry of pleasure. 

“Oh God, yes, Marcus.”

She came quickly and violently, arching off the couch and he watched in delight as her body tensed and then convulsed over and over. She was so sexy, and so responsive to everything he did. He barely had to touch her and she was lost to him. 

Her lazy smile when she came down was his undoing, and he kissed her long and deep, before he quickly stripped off his clothes and then he was inside her, their bodies moving together, taking each other higher and higher. Soon they were both cresting the wave, their breathing coming fast and shallow, and he gazed down into her eyes as she began to come undone again, and just as he felt her begin to tense around him deliciously, the doorbell rang. 

They stilled, panting and sweaty. 

“Who the fuck is that,” said Abby, and he couldn’t help laughing at her forthrightness. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe they’ll go away.” He kissed her again and began to move, eager to pick up where they’d left off. 

“I hope so,” she murmured into his hair, and then let out a small moan as he thrust a little harder into her. “I don’t want to stop doing this.”

“Me neither,” he said, picking up speed, and she pulled him deeper inside her. 

He’d barely thrust five times when she came, clenching and gasping, but just as he felt his climax beginning to build, the goddamn doorbell rang again. And again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned, collapsing on top of her. “Tonight is not my night.” He pulled out of her stickily and pulled his boxers on, not wanting to walk across the room with his erection bobbing around comically. He picked up the intercom and barked into it. 

“Yes?”

“Hi son. Can I come up?”  _ His mom. _

He wanted to die.

“Mom.” He glanced back at Abby, who was still sprawled naked on the couch. Her eyes grew big and round and she bolted upright, searching frantically for her underwear. “Uh, this isn’t really a good time right now.”

“Marcus, I just drove all the way over here. The least you can do before I head back is make me a cup of tea. And I need to use the bathroom.”

“Tea. Right. Okay.” He grimaced at Abby, who was pulling her dress over her head. “Come on up.” He pressed the buzzer, then turned to Abby in time to catch his T-shirt as it flew through the air towards him. “Thanks,” he grinned, pulling it over his head and stepping into his jeans. “I’m so sorry. This is such bad luck.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled sweetly. “I had my fun. I feel bad for you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Talking to my mom will make me forget  _ all  _ about it.”

She stroked his cheek. “You’re amazing,” she whispered, and his heart swelled with happiness. She kissed him softly. “I’ll make it up to you later.” 

He swallowed at the implication, internally cursing his mom for showing up on tonight of all nights. 

“Is my hair okay?” she asked, just as the doorbell rang.

“It’s perfect. You look beautiful.” He went to open the door, and Abby quickly straightened the cushions on the couch. 

“Mom!” He kissed her, trying to make his smile brighter than he felt. “What a surprise.”

“Hi, son. I wanted to text you, but I’d forgotten to charge my phone. I won’t stay long.” She was in the living room now, and her eyes grew wider as she saw Abby, who came forward to greet her. “Hello! Who’s this?”

“Mom, this is Abby,” said Marcus.

“Nice to meet you,” said Abby, extending her hand, and Vera shook it, an expression of wide eyed delight in her face. 

“I’m very happy to meet you too, Abby! Marcus told me he’d met someone when I was here last week.”

Marcus cringed. He didn’t really want Abby to know he’d told his mom about her after he’d first seen her profile on Tinder. Abby raised her eyebrows quizzically but he ignored her.

“You two sit down and get to know each other,” he said quickly. “I’ll make tea.” He retreated to the kitchen, and busied himself with heating water and finding mugs, straining his ears to listen to the conversation on the couch. 

“I hope I didn’t interrupt,” he heard his mom say sadly. “Marcus is usually here alone on Saturday evenings.”

Oh God, mom, he thought to himself.  _ Stop. _

“Not at all,” said Abby cheerfully, and he wanted to kiss her. “We were just watching a movie. Have you eaten? Marcus made a wonderful stir fry, and I think there’s some left.”

“Thank you dear, I had a Subway on my way over. A cup of tea will be fine, then I’ll be on my way and leave you two to your evening together.”

He poured the boiling water into the mugs, and placed them on a tray with his tin of select teas he kept especially for when his mom came round. He took the tray to the living room and placed it on the small table in front of the couch, and was mortified to discover his mom was already showing Abby the photo of his twelve-year-old self at space camp she carried in her wallet. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with affection, and his heart skipped a beat. 

“You were so cute!” She wrinkled her nose in amusement. 

“He was a beanpole,” said his mom. “All legs and nose.”

“Mom!” Why did moms always have to do this? 

“So,” said Vera, ignoring him and putting her wallet away. "How did you two meet?” 

Abby and Marcus looked at each other, coming to what they thought was common agreement. 

“At a party,” said Marcus.

“On a dating app,” said Abby. 

His mom looked rightly confused, but decided to let it go. “So, is this your first date?”

They looked at each other again. Technically it was the second, but they’d only actually met that morning, 

“Yes,” said Marcus. 

“No,” said Abby. 

Oh God. They were making a mess of this. “It’s kind of like the second part of the first date,” he explained. 

Vera sipped her tea. “Well, I’ll finish my tea and be on my way, then. We can finish that Monopoly Empire tournament another time, Marcus.”

He closed his eyes briefly in disbelief. He was sure she wasn’t doing it on purpose, because he could see how happy she was to meet Abby, but she was making him look like a complete loser. 

Abby’s next words shocked him to the core. 

“Monopoly Empire? I  _ love  _ Monopoly Empire! Oh, let’s have a game!”

_ What? _

“Now?” he asked faintly, his mind returning to the wonderful sex they’d been having on the couch and which he couldn’t wait to get back to. 

“Why not? Would you like to, Vera?”

“I guess one quick game couldn’t hurt,” she said, shrugging her shoulders happily. “If it’s not a disturbance for you.”

“Of course not.” Abby stood to take the mugs to the kitchen. “Marcus, do you want to set the game up?”

Ten minutes later the Monopoly board was open in front of them, and they were engaged in a battle to buy as many brands as possible to build their empire tower. Marcus quickly purchased his favourite brands, Samsung and X-Box, two huge brands that commanded a high rent when somebody landed on them and generated a good income for him when he passed “go”, but he hadn’t counted on Abby and his mom sneakily ganging up to destroy his empire.

_ “Swap the top!” _ read Abby smugly when she picked up an Empire card.  _ “Swap the topmost brand of your tower with the topmost brand of an opponent’s tower.” _ She threw him a beatific smile. “Sorry, honey.” She swapped his four hundred thousand dollar Samsung brand for her one hundred thousand dollar My Little Pony brand, but he couldn’t be mad at her because she’d called him  _ honey,  _ which made him melt inside.

“It’s okay,” he said, glaring at My Little Pony as if it was personally to blame for his misfortune. He threw again and landed on McDonalds. “I’ll just buy another one.”

“I think not,” said Vera, sliding one of her cards across the table to him. “I’ll have that one, thanks.”

He picked up the card and read it with a groan.  _ “Deal buster! When another player is about to buy a brand, play this card and buy it yourself.”  _ He tossed it down in disgust. “Fine! Take all my money, evil women.”

And so it continued, until Abby and Vera owned three quarters of the board, and he was so destitute and indebted that he couldn’t move without going to jail for unpaid debts. He finally surrendered, and Abby and Vera high-fived each other while he shook his head in mock defeat, but deep down he’d never enjoyed losing a game of Monopoly so much.

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” Vera said, kissing Abby. “You should both come to lunch sometime.” She picked up her bag. “Oh, Marcus, dear.” She held out a bag. “I brought you a new toilet brush. Yours is a bit grubby.” She gave a little chuckle. “It’s a Darth Vader one. I thought you’d like it.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, feeling his cheeks reddening again. “Thanks, mom.” He took the bag and placed it behind him, avoiding looking at Abby, who was trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably. 

“We’d love to come to lunch,” she said warmly, turning back to Vera, and Vera’s face immediately lit up. 

“How about tomorrow? Are you free?”

Marcus groaned. “Mom, you know Abby and I have only just met…”

“Tomorrow would be great,” said Abby, enthusiasm shining on her face. “Wouldn’t it?” She glanced at Marcus, clearly only realising now that they’d only met that morning and she had absolutely  _ no idea  _ what his plans were for tomorrow. 

“Tomorrow’s fine, I guess.” Heck, he was just happy that Abby wanted to see him again tomorrow. 

“Perfect. I’ll expect you about one? Bye Abby dear. Bye Marcus.” She kissed them both again, and then she opened the door and left.

Marcus closed the door behind her and turned to Abby. In his experience, most women would run a mile after an evening like tonight, and he was having trouble getting his head around the fact that Abby seemed to have enjoyed it and had even suggested going to his mom’s for lunch the following day. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “What a disastrous evening.”

She frowned as she put the cups in the dishwasher. “Disastrous? It wasn’t disastrous. I had great food, two orgasms and a game of Monopoly.” She closed the dishwasher and came to wrap her arms around his waist, her smile both innocent and seductive. “I call that a win.”

He gazed down at her in awe. She was really something else, and he was struggling to find the words to express what he was feeling. “It’s just - most women would be annoyed by my mom coming around unannounced. I’ve told her not to do it, but she doesn’t listen.” 

“She’s just lonely, Marcus. Of course it’s none of my business and I don’t want to criticize, but I think if you take time to go and visit her, or take her out for lunch, she’s less likely to show up unexpectedly on a Saturday evening when you’re fucking your girlfriend on the couch.”

What she was saying made perfect sense, and he knew he should listen to her, but his mind had latched on to one particular word of her sentence.

“Girlfriend?” He couldn’t help a slow smile spreading over his face. 

She raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Girlfriend, Tinder hook-up. Whatever you want to call me.”

“I like the sound of girlfriend,” he murmured, wrapping his arms more tightly around her and feeling himself immediately harden. 

“Me too.” She reached to kiss him softly, then placed her hands on his chest and pushed him gently so that he fell back onto the couch. “Now if I remember rightly,” - she dropped to her knees between his legs - “we were in the middle of something important.”

She undid his belt and jeans with deft fingers, her eyes deep and dark and mesmerizing as she stared up at him, so incredibly beautiful she took his breath away. 

“Abby…” he whispered, but she shook her head.

“Shh. No talking.”

Then her mouth was on him, and he was lost.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for any inaccuracies in how Tinder works, I’ve never actually used it because I’m old and it didn’t exist when I was single.


End file.
